


Promises

by jeonsweetheart



Series: Lemonade [1]
Category: K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alternate Universe - Idols, Cheating, F/M, Idol Kim Namjoon | RM, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-01-15
Packaged: 2019-10-07 03:54:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17358455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeonsweetheart/pseuds/jeonsweetheart
Summary: Marriage life with Namjoon hasn’t been the same lately. He’s been cold and distant, always whispering on the phone. And you can’t help but notice…..





	1. Pray You Catch Me

**Author's Note:**

> Songfic inspired by Queen B's Lemonade album. That album was so bittersweet T^T. Get ready for feels yall.

 

 

Something is wrong.

You don’t know how or when things changed, but something shifted between the two of you. There is a distance now, more tangible than the miles that separated you from him when he’s on business trips. Farther than the long-distance phone calls that became less and less frequent. Even now, as you lay in the same bed with him only a few feet away you can tell, something is wrong.

Because you can’t remember a time when you and Namjoon had ever been so far apart.

He would always come home late at night. Languid footsteps trailing towards the bedroom. Eyes tired and red from too many hours spent awake working on the newest album. Gravity pulling him down in a slump that could only be from the heaviness of leadership, from carrying the weight of the entire group.

And though he was exhausted, he would still find a way come and take care of you. Even dead-tired, his warm brown eyes would light up, and his lips would curl at the sight of you. He’d make his way over and pull you close, until your bodies became an entangled mess of arms and legs, chests pressed together as you curled into each others warmth. His fingers would run soothingly through your hair, and he’d ask you how your day went. The moments you spent within his arms seemed to make even the bad days good.

But it’d been a long time since your husband held you close and melted away your bad days.

 

The clock on your nightstand reads 1:23 AM in angry red letters when his phone goes off in the middle of the night. You can hear the sheets rustle and feel whatever is left of his presence slip away as he sits up, answering on the second ring. “Hello?” Before you can even stop yourself the words are flying out of your mouth. “Who is it?”

The woman who speaks sounds nothing like you. Her voice is broken and fragile, spiked with worry and fear. He shrugs his shoulders and rolls his eyes because, “It’s just Yoongi.” The lie rolls off his tongue effortlessly, you are already hurting, and the way he brushes you off tears right through you.

It’s not Yoongi. You know better. Your husband’s best friend loves his sleep and would never stir in the middle of the night. You want to confront him, put all your thoughts out in the open but before you can even gather the courage he stands up, makes his way across the room and closes the door behind him, leaving you alone.

 

Again.

 

Somehow you can’t decide what’s more unsettling; the loneliness you feel when your husband leaves, or the loneliness you feel when he’s around.

You are too unnerved to go back to sleep. Not that you are sleeping anyway. Now that you are truly awake to the situation before you sleep does not come. You’ve been staying up for days, eyes wide open but it was more than just insomnia. Your mind is awake with all the possibilities, visualizing every single scenario. You can’t close your eyes because in an instant you are there. Thinking about it all over again. You can't ignore it, nor pretend not to see it. You are not blind anymore. And so sleep does not come.

With every nerve on edge, you throw back the covers and swing your legs out of bed. You can’t just lay there trapped within your own mind. You need a distraction—any distraction from the truth. Even if the only release you can find is putting your body into motion. You find yourself pacing back and forth, frazzled energy bouncing from one point to another.

Until you hear him laugh. It’s a deep and throaty noise that breaks through the walls and interrupts your racing thoughts. You find yourself tiptoeing closer to the sound, trying to be as quiet as you possibly can so you can creep up and press your ear up against the door to listen. How desperate you are, eavesdropping like this. You feel ashamed for sinking this low, but that shame does not stop you from wondering if you should get the glass from your nightstand so you can hear him better. If you could only hear what he was saying! But the words are muffled, like he’s talking underwater.

He used to talk to you all the time, share his innermost thoughts, his nightmares, his dreams. Talk  to you about everything and nothing. Work and play. Past and present. But now, nothing.

Now all you got were glimpses of his world.

You used to _be_ his world.

 

The realization leaves you cold and you press yourself closer to the light trickling through the cracked door. You can see him now. His back is turned towards you and he’s hunched over, phone clutched to his ear like he’s trying to keep all his secrets from spilling out of it. At that moment, you pray he will turn around so you can read his lips and decode whatever it is he’s whispering huskily into the receiver. You pray he will turn around and catch you. You wonder what he will do. Will he jump? Will he be angry?

Ironically, out all the times you’ve prayed for God to answer you during your marriage, this is the prayer God answers because it happens. He turns around.

You expect to see the face of a cruel man. You can not have prepared yourself for what you do see. Because when he finally turns around, it’s not the face of a monster, but the face of your first love. Namjoon is smiling. _Smiling._ This is the moment your heart breaks. When was the last time he smiled at you like that? Pink lips pulled back, pearly whites gleaming. Dimples flashing in his cheeks. The way his eyes squint into tiny crescent moons.

When was the last time he smiled at you like that? You can’t remember. Your mind flickers through the memories filed in your head, though each image never seems to be quite right. Maybe because they are now clouded with suspicion. Was that last smile real? Or merely a mask?

The fact that you can’t be sure made you anxious. You can’t tell the difference because you didn’t know him anymore. Where was the man you loved? This person you do not recognize. His eyes are dark, lit with the desire you once thought was only reserved for you. You watch as his lips curl from a smile into a wicked grin.

Something is _wrong_.

 

You tried to fix it. The problem. You. It had you be you, didn’t it? Maybe he wanted someone more gentle. You tried to be meek, mild, and kind. Soft spoken, as you were always previously so assertive. You didn’t want to chase him off with harsh words or accusations. You wanted to be what he wanted. You thought that maybe he wanted someone sexy, so you tried to be that too. You made your eyes smokey and put on red dresses, even though you hated the color red. You wanted to be enough. You tried everything to get back his attention, but it made no difference. You still ended up in this exact moment.

A sigh slips past your lips, almost a whimper. It’s the sound of loss.

This is when he sees you.

His smile disappears. Then he walks forward and closes the door in your face, shutting out the light and leaving you in darkness.

 

When he comes back to bed—wearing a scent that is distinctly not yours—it’s 5AM. He kisses your forehead and climbs underneath the sheets, yet the distance between you remains. Maybe you already know the answer to the questions that keep swirling in your mind. You don't want to believe that he broke his vows. But that hope does not stop the doubt you feel every time you look at his face.

 

   Are you cheating on me?

 

_Cheating?_

 

**_Are you cheating on me?_ **

  



	2. Don't Hurt yourself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am the dragon breathing fire. Beautiful mane I’m the lion  
> Beautiful man I know you’re lying….

 

It is quiet in your house. The sun and it’s warm amber glow have long since disappeared, fading into black. The stillness is unusual. Normally you hate such a thing, always needing some sort of noise playing in the background like the tv or the radio while you clean up and do work, but not today. You need the silence so you can collect your thoughts and prepare yourself for what you are about to do.

You are done being passive. Sick and tired of sitting and waiting around for a man who did not so much as blink an eye at you. You are done crying. You already cried so much. All your tears have dried up and gone away. You can’t bring yourself to be sad anymore. There isn’t any room for you to hold inside two emotions. Especially when all you can feel now is anger.

You are  _ mad  _ as  _ hell _ .

So you came home from work and sat down on the couch, waiting on him for one last time. Head held high, poised and collected. Muscled coiled and ready to pounce.

Just like clockwork, keys slide into the door, and Namjoon comes in at a quarter to three, completely unaware of the situation he just stepped into. Looking up he stops, surprised to find you sitting in the living room. He can feel something is off. Sense it in your body language, see the difference in your eyes. For a minute, he wonders if you know what he’s been doing all night long...but that’s impossible right? How could you possibly know?

_ But you did know. _

You watched nonchalantly as he flashed a casual grin your way. “Hey babe...what are you doing up so late?“ You didn’t respond right away, taking the time to examine him closely before you decide to speak.

“Where were you tonight?”

The second the words leave your mouth there’s a shift in the atmosphere. Thick silence fills the space between you, but your eyes never leave him. You see him blink, catch the bob of his adam’s apple as he swallows down a gulp, note a flicker of emotion pass in his face too brief to figure out the expression. Was that fear? Was he nervous?

But then he laughs. It’s almost a scoff as his eyebrows pull together he shakes his head in what masks as confusion. “What?”

“I know you heard me Namjoon, I’m not going ask you again.”

“What are you talking about? I was with the guys tonight we--”

“Don’t,” you stop him, holding up a hand. ”Don’t do that. Don’t lie to my face. I am so tired of you lying to me, please for once just be honest.”

He doesn’t say a word, only sighs and runs his fingers through silver locks and as unsatisfactory as it is you realize this action is the closest you’ll ever get to a confession. But it’s not enough. Your hands come up to rest on your face almost like prayer before you ask your next question. 

“Did you sleep with her?”

“God (Y/N), are we really doing this right now?”

Anger presses up against your chest and before you know it, you’re on your feet. “Yes, Namjoon, we are really doing this right now. Because I can’t stand one more minute of this fake marriage. I’m not stupid. I see you! And I’m not going to pretend like I don’t anymore.”

“Fine.  _ Fine! _ What do want me to say, huh? What do you want?”

“I want the TRUTH!” 

He fixes his gaze, eyes locked on you. “Oh, you want the truth? Ok here’s the truth. Yes, I was with her tonight, and yes I fucked her, and it was the best goddamn fuck I’ve had in months. Is that what you wanted to hear? Are you happy now?”

His words hit you like a bullet to the heart. No, you weren’t happy. You wanted his candor but not this. His tone...the way he was talking to you...You almost couldn’t believe it. How could he? The man you called your husband would never so much as raise his voice towards you. Yet here he was, spitting out cruelty. The brutality of his words mixed with his contempt was too much. Your nails dug into the couch as you tried to steady yourself, tried to push through the pain. 

Your mind was swimming with information, trying to come to terms with the new knowledge but one question still lingered, you had to ask:

“Why?”

“Fuck, why? I’m on tour all the time, It’s not like you’re around?”

_ Are you kidding me? _

What ever pain you felt quickly turn to anger and you whipped around to face him.

“Who the fuck do you think I am Namjoon?! You didn’t marry one of your little groupies. I have a job, and a life! I can’t just drop everything and follow you around the world like some love-sick puppy!”

“Yeah well, maybe if you did I wouldn’t have needed to find someone else.”

The nerve of this man!

“So you want my entire world to revolve around you? You are so selfish! As if I don’t already do everything for you. I cook, when you come home at night there’s dinner on the table. I keep this house spotless but it’s not like you’re even here to notice--”

“I’m not here cuz I’m too busy working the job that got you this house in the first place!”   


“Wow. So it’s ok for you to be away from me on your job, but if I can’t be there for you then I’m the problem?” You stared him in the face, only to be met with a glare to rival your own.

“You’re a real piece of work Namjoon.”

How is it that he could look at your relationship and see only your flaws, but never his own? You should have known better than to put all your faith in a man with a god-complex. He only ever cared about was himself and his career. All he had were excuses. You started to walk away from him when his next words stopped you in your tracks. 

“Oh please, don’t act like you’re so perfect. It’s not like you haven’t done it.”

You cast an incredulous look over your shoulder. “ _ Excuse me? _ ” 

Just what is he trying to imply?

Namjoon rolled his eyes. “Now who’s playing dumb. I’m not stupid either, I know you’re seeing him behind my back.”

This again? “How many time do I have to tell you,  _ Jackson is just a friend _ .”

“You’re a fucking liar. He doesn’t look at you like ‘just a friend’, I know you slept with him.”

Now you were furious. You took several steps towards him till you were so close you could feel his heated breath on your face. “Let’s not it get twisted. I’m not the cheater--You are!” you said, jabbing a finger into his chest. “You don’t get to put this on me! You and I both know I’m not the one who’s unfaithful!”

By the end of your sentence you found yourself out of breath, panting. You were shouting the entire time. Unable to keep the fire inside; your fury, abated. You looked at your husband, finally eye to eye and sighed.

“I wouldn’t do that to you.” You spoke, voice coming out much softer than either of you had expected. “I wouldn't do anything to disrespect you like the way you disrespect me.” 

Once again silence swelled within the room and all you could do was look at him and wonder how you had ended up here. The two of you never used to fight, not like this. It was never this bad. But things were different now. 

“W-why did you do this me? To us?” On your wedding day you both took vows to be united as one in this relationship. He was hurting himself just as much as he was hurting you but he was so wrapped up in his own pride that he couldn't see it.

“Are you even sorry?”

Namjoon didn't say a word. 

You closed your eyes and counted to ten, trying to find some kind of peace. But by the time to reached the last number your anger still hadn't subsided. You couldn't find peace because there was no peace here. 

Everything in this relationship was so,  _ so _ hard. You couldn't pick up the broken shards of your relationship all by yourself and he wasn't even trying to fix it.

“I can't--I can't do this anymore”

Namjoon narrowed his eyes. “Can't do what anymore?”

“This!” You yelled, throwing your arms out. 

“You. Me.  _ Us. _ I can’t do it anymore and I don't want to.” 

And with that, you spun on your heel making a direct line for the bedroom. You could hear him follow behind you but you didn't care, your mind was focusing on something else now.

All you cared about was getting the hell out of there. You went into the closet and pulled out an overnight bag, snatching clothes off hangers and stuffing them inside. 

“What are you doing?”

You had to laugh at his question. “Isn’t it obvious?  _ I’m leaving you. _ ”

You didn’t stop packing. After taking out enough clothes you grabbed your bag and walked out the closet. On your way, you caught a glimpse of Namjoon with a blank expression on his face.

“Don’t tell me you're actually surprised?”

Brushing past him, you made your way to the bathroom. “I was so blindly in love with you that even when  _ I knew _ \--I knew what you were doing, I tried to stay. But I deserve better. I deserve so much more than you.”

After gathering the rest of your stuff you turn around to walk out the door only to find Namjoon leaning against the frame. Taking in his image made your steps falter. 

He looked strong and athletic in a white muscle tee. His arms were crossed over his chest, a gesture built out of displeasure but only served to highlight the curve of his biceps. When you finally tore your eyes away from his body and up to look at his face, you sighed. He was clenching his jaw, showing off all his angels while his lips pushed out into the perfect pout. His eyes as always were dark, intense, and fixed on you.

Well, not always fixed on you.

He was so beautiful and you hated him for it. Or rather how he made you feel. He could still make your heart skip a beat even as it was breaking. 

Yes, you still loved him. But clearly his love for you didn’t run quite as deep.

“So what now? You want a divorce? You signed the prenup you're not going to get any money out of me.” He growled, voice deep and raspy.

_ There he goes again, always so damn arrogant…. _ . His words served as a reminder. This is why you had to go. You broke eye contact, concentrating on zipping up your bag. “You can keep your money. I’ve got my own, and I can take care of myself.” 

You crossed in front of him, swiftly taking a pair shoes then sitting on the bed to put them on. It dawned on you that he didn’t even ask you to stay. But then again, although it hurt to make this decision, you didn’t have to blink away any tears. 

“Where the fuck are you going?”

You laced up your shoes, pulling the strings tight. “I don’t know.” You snapped. “Since you seem to think all I do is sneak around behind your back, maybe I’ll go see Jackson. Or maybe I’ll go out and find me another man. All I know is I’m  _ never _ coming back to you; I can promise you that.”

You weren’t playing nice but you were honestly so done with his attitude, mistreatment, and all the pain he caused you. Confident in your decision, you got your bag and stood up, striding towards the exit.

“ _ Hey! _ ”

You ignored him. 

“Don’t walk away from me when I’m talking to you!”  
  


“Kiss my ass, Namjoon!” You sassed, walking out the door and out of his life.


	3. Resentment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I may never understand why. I’m doing the best that I can. And I tried, and I tried to forget this. But I’m much too full of resentment…_

 

Kim Namjoon knew you would leave him if you found out about his affair.

You weren’t the type of woman to let yourself be walked all over, and honestly, he was surprised you’d let him get away with it for so long. For months you put up with the late night calls, the sneaking around, the constant lies…..And he watched the lights dim in your eyes as he broke his vows. It wasn’t like he wanted to cheat on you–not at first.

But anytime he was away from you on tour he just got _so_ lonely.

Sure he had his bandmates and his fans but when the stage lights turned off and the cheers died down none of that was enough to keep him going. Whenever he got by himself it’s like the floodgates opened up. And all the pressure, the high expectations, the push for success, _the hate_ , all of it came washing over him.

And Namjoon felt like he was drowning in it.

As much as he wanted to tell you what ailed him, he didn’t wanna put you under any more stress. You were already constantly worrying about his welfare, filled to the brim with your own concerns.     g He didn’t think it fair to make you shoulder his burdens as well. But holding all his feelings inside only made things worse.

The helplessness, the anxiety…he just wanted to make it go away. Even if only for a moment. And that’s all it was. A moment of weakness.

The first time it happened, he regretted it immediately. He stayed up the whole night, staring at the ceiling, consumed by his guilt. It was the biggest mistake he had ever made. He planned to go home and just come clean, tell you everything that happened. Then beg and beg for your forgiveness.

All he could do on the plane ride back home was pray to God you would somehow take him back.

But then he saw your face. The bright smile you gave him when he walked in the door. Heard the joy in your voice as you greeted him. Felt your love as you curled into his embrace, nudged your head in the crook of his neck and whispered _: “I missed you so much”_.

How could he tell you the truth then? How could he tell you what he had done, that he’d broken his promise and given himself to another? He wasn’t even on stage, yet here you were, looking at him with stars in your eyes. You were the only person who truly knew him, flaws included, and despite it all you still loved him.

He couldn’t watch the love and devotion in your eyes turn to hatred and disgust. He couldn’t cope with the reality of the situation. The fact that your heart might close to him forever, that you might leave him.

And then he’d really be alone.

No, that couldn’t happen. _If you left..?_ At the time, he hadn’t wanted to even think about it. So instead of doing the right thing and being honest, he closed himself off. If only to keep himself from breaking down. Every time he looked at you he felt shame for his actions. It didn’t feel right, lying to you. Maintaining a distance was the only way he could keep his secret a secret.

The second time it happened, it wasn’t a mistake. A mistake repeated more than once is a decision. And when temptation swept by, manifesting itself in long legs and a warm body to hold at night, Namjoon couldn’t resist.

The guilt hit him just as hard, if not harder than the last time. If he had to face you at that moment without a doubt he would have spilled out all the ugly truth.

But it didn’t happen that way. He was on tour for an even longer time than usual, and the separation gave him more than enough time to compose himself, to bury the guilt far enough where it would not resurface. But in doing so he had to become a different person to you. Hard. Cold to the touch.

It affected him as much as it affected you. With every shrug and look of indifference, every evasion he could feel himself slipping further and further away from the man he wanted to be, from the man that you deserved.

And yet, he couldn’t find it in himself to stop.

The third time it happened, you knew. Even now he couldn’t figure out what tipped you off. He knew there wasn’t any lipstick on his cheek or lingering perfume (Namjoon was stupid cheating, but he wasn’t _that_ stupid). Nothing tangible to hold your suspicion but you felt it. You questioned him, asking things like ‘what’s wrong?’ and ‘did something happen tonight?’, each inquiry only put him on edge and he snapped at you, starting a fight to distract you from the truth.

That night he left home, seeking comfort in the arms of the first girl he cheated with. He crossed a line that night. He knew he shouldn’t have met with her. But she already put her number in his phone and he was too much of a coward to be left alone with his thoughts in a hotel room. But in doing so he opened up pandora’s box. He lay in her bed as she stroked his ego, telling him how important he was, how much better he deserved.

And soon enough he started to believe it. That he was better than you and that you were somehow, not enough for him. His superiority somehow justified him stepping outside his marriage. He found himself faultless, thinking it was your job to keep his interest and if he wasn’t happy, it was only his right to seek out happiness elsewhere.

But sitting alone in this dark house, all Namjoon could see was how wrong he was. So very, very wrong.

Months. You’ve been gone for months now. At first, he barely missed you. He didn’t have to. The very next day he had to fly out to Tokyo for a concert and he went back to his regular routine. Practice. Performing. Parties. The occasional girl to keep him satisfied. He didn’t need you then. And why would he? When he had all the people surrounding him, screaming his name. Singing his praises. He had no need to miss you until he went home.

And that’s when reality sunk in.

He came home more to just an empty house. As the days rolled by he came to realize just how much you took care of him. Not just as a homemaker but as a mate. You were his heart, the sun, and moon, his entire world. Namjoon could have killed the man who said _you don’t know what you have till it’s gone_ because as cliche` as it was, the expression couldn’t have been more accurate and the truth stabbed him like a knife.

The loneliness he felt when without you was ten times worse than when was with you.

Your presence had a bigger impact on him than he could have imagined. Something about your ambiance was instantly calming. Even if you weren’t doing anything together, whether it be just sitting on the couch or laying in bed beside him your being there gave him peace.

He tried to fill the void, find your image in the millions of girls that threw themselves at him, the women he led to his bed well within the night. But there was no recreating you.

Namjoon hadn’t known peace since the day you left.

If it was possible he was even more restless than before. He couldn’t even remember the last time he had a full night’s sleep. It had to be retribution for all the nights he kept you awake with the creeping thoughts of his betrayal. You, the love of his life, who he took for granted.

He ruined the best thing that ever happened to him, for his own selfish desires.  

All because he lied.

And now all he wanted was a chance to get you back.

He pulled out his cell phone, trying to reach you again. He couldn’t keep track of all the times he called your phone, only to be met with your voicemail.

When he watched you walk out that door…a part of him hadn’t really recognized it as real. He was too full of himself to see it happening. His ego told him you’d be back, that you wouldn’t–couldn’t–really leave him. You’d cool off for a couple of days, then come back and try to make things work because that’s the type of person that you were.

He knew you were strong. Strong enough to move past his mistakes. He just didn’t know you were strong enough to move past him entirely.

Namjoon runs a hand across his face, dials your number, and prays. He’s not necessarily sure who or what he’s praying to, but he could really use a miracle right now. Because that’s what it would take from you to actually pick up the phone.

“(Y/n) please, please pick up.”

The phone rings once, twice, three times and then–

“We’re sorry; you have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in service.”

He hangs up, angry.

He doesn’t have a right to be angry, that much he knows. Mercy and grace from the woman he scorned are far too much to ask for but he needs you, and he’s desperate so he’s asking anyway.

Namjoon foolishly made the mistake of thinking that you couldn’t live without him. But he was the one who couldn’t live without you.

So he’ll keep calling. Even if it only goes to voicemail. He’ll keep leaving message after message.

Whatever it takes.

* * *

 

You wake up to the sound of your phone ringing. You didn’t have to check caller ID to know who was on the other side of that line. Annoyed, you sighed and rolled over onto your side. Curling up into the couch, you choose the warmth and sweet bliss of sleep over another argument.

“Aren’t you gonna get that?”

“No.” You answered without so much as opening your eyes.

Behind you, you could hear Jackson moving around, presumably to shut off your phone (you didn’t care enough to look).

The ringing grew louder and louder and soon enough you could feel your phone vibrating against your back. “(Y/n), answer the phone.”

“No.” You repeated, throwing the cover over your head. It’s entirely too early for this. Didn’t he have something to do? Wasn’t he busy? You didn’t understand it. Now that you were separated, he suddenly had all the time in the world to call you?

You could hear Jackson sigh behind you. “I swear if I have to hear your ringtone one more time–I’m going to lose my mind. Just answer the phone!”

“If it bothers you so much, why don’t YOU answer it!”

“M-me! Me?” Jackson sputtered. “Do you want me to die? Do you know what that man would do to me if he found out you were staying with me? He would kill me.”

That much was true. Namjoon would be furious to find out you’d been staying with your male best friend, which is exactly why you went to Jackson’s place when you left him.

Was it petty? _Yes._ Was it worth it? _Hell yes_.

If his feelings were hurt than good, that makes two of us.

“I mean, I could probably take him. But Namjoon, when he’s angry, is a totally different person. Actually no, he wouldn’t just kill me. It would be murder in the First Degree. I’m not answering.”

“Then put it on silent. I don’t care, I’m not talking to him.”

Suddenly, the warmth of your blanket was ripped away from you, forcing you out of your bubble of comfort. “Did you–did you just snatch my cover off? Jackson!”

“(Y/n),” He said, coming closer and taking your hands in his. “You are my best friend and you know I’m only saying this out of a place of love but this has to stop. You have to go.”

“You’re kicking me out?”

“Look, it’s not like I don’t want you here, I love having you around you know that. It’s just–you’ve been hiding out on my couch for a couple of months now–”

“–Hiding! I’m not hiding!!!”

“And I refuse to harbor a fugitive anymore!”

“I’m not a fugitive…” you grumbled.

Jackson shot you a cross look.“Namjoon is searching high and low for you and you’re avoiding him here, in my apartment.”

You rolled your eyes.“Ok, AND?”

“And! I really don’t think staying here is doing you any good. You are not dealing with what happened. It’s not healthy. He’s calling for a reason, you need to talk to him. You can’t run away from this…”

You bit down on your lip, contemplating everything he said. He wasn’t really wrong. But you were far too exhausted to deal with Namjoon again.

You couldn’t go through another fight.

You weren’t angry. At least, not in the way you were before. The last of your anger had been exerted in a fit of rage when you returned to your home to pick up some things you left behind. A lot of damage had been done. Broken dishes, shatters glass, photos ripped out from picture frames. Tiny vengeful acts that piled up to one huge mess. And after all of it, you were only partially satisfied. But that time had come and gone, you didn’t think you had anymore fight in you.

You were filled with too much bitterness, too much resentment for any of that.

No matter what, you still couldn’t wrap your brain around it. How he could do this to you? You thought that having him speak the truth and actually admit to what he did would give you peace of mind but all it did was give you more questions than answers. And now just the thought of talking to him made bile rise up in your throat.

“I…I don’t even know what I would say to him.”

Jackson narrowed his eyes. “You don’t have to say anything. He’s the one who fucked up, he should be doing all the talking.” His expression softened. “But…I think you should listen. If this is really over you need closure.”

“And on that note, you’re gonna pick up the next time that phone rings or I will revoke your couch privileges!” He said, standing up with a smile on his face.

“I hate you.” You growled at him.

He smiled back at you, “ I love you too.” He kissed your cheek, placing your cell phone in your hand, then left for his bedroom.

You looked down at the piece of metal in your hand and sighed. You couldn’t do it. You couldn’t talk to him. And yet…there was still this small part of you that wanted to hear his voice.

Determined to ignore that emotion you stood up from the couch, headed straight for the kitchen. Stress eating had become a terribly bad habit of yours, but you couldn’t help it. You were the type of person who ate her feelings (and honestly, food does make everything better).

You were shuffling through last night’s leftovers, trying to decide if you should heat up a plate of dukbokki or humor yourself with dessert for breakfast when Jackson’s home phone went off.

You waited a bit, figuring he would pick up eventually, but he didn’t. “Jacksonnnn~”, you whined. Nothing. _Whatever,_ you thought. _I’ll just let it go to voicemail._

You turned back to the fridge, taking out a pint of ice cream when the beep of the machine sounded and a voice broke through the apartments silence.

“Hey (Y/n),” At the sound of your name you immediately stopped everything and froze.

“It’s me, Hobi. I know you’re crashing at Jackson’s right now,” Your jaw dropped. How could he know that? You didn’t tell anyone where you were going.

You could hear him giggling on the phone. “Don’t worry I’m not gonna tell. I know you don’t wanna hear anything that I have to say but I’m still gonna say it anyway.”

“Namjoon’s a mess….We’ve been through a lot together–I’ve never seen him like this before. He made a mistake. A big mistake, and he knows it. But he loves you more than anything. Just hear him out okay? And not for him, but for you…I know you still love him too. Call me back, yeah? If you want, you can ditch him but don’t ditch us! We all miss you over here…..Take care of yourself.”

By the time the message ended you had teary eyes, only half a pint of ice cream left, and a decision to make.

Suddenly, you didn’t have much of an appetite.

And then the phones ring. _Your_ phone.

You let it buzz for a bit. Fully determined to ignore his call once again. But you couldn’t stop looking at the phone. Everyone’s words were circling in your head. What if your friends were right? Were you making a mistake? Would you regret this in the future?

And the phone just kept on ringing. You wished it would stop so you didn’t have to think about any of this. You closed your eyes and decided to let fate make the choice for you. If he called back, you would use the last bit of fight in you to answer the phone. But if the phone call ended and he didn’t call back…then you’d really be done.

Your ringtone died and you held your breath, waiting.

There was a long pause. Nothing.

Maybe he’ll give up. Maybe he’s sick of all this too.

Expect–the phone rings again. Namjoon was still fighting for you.

So you pick up your phone, press the answer button and put the phone to your ear.

“Hello?”

 

 


	4. Resentment part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I’m crying, can’t stop crying. Can’t stop crying. You could’ve told me you wasn’t happy. I know you didn’t wanna hurt me. But look what you’ve done to me now._

“(Y/n)?”

“Yeah, it’s me.”

“I……I didn’t think you would actually pick up the phone.”

“Neither did I…”

Silence is a funny thing. It’s nothing, and everything at the same time. Somehow the emptiness is still able to fill a void. Nothing is said aloud, but a thousand words are said in the silent space between you and Namjoon. It’s probably only been a few seconds, but it feels like minutes have gone by, or maybe even hours. In those moments of suspended time, you decide you don’t want to listen to anything coming from him. Not even this silence.

It’s almost as if he can hear your thoughts. “Don’t hang up!”

His voice is rushed, desperate…..and soothing. Though you’ll never admit that you miss the sound of his voice. Your intellect tells you to not to listen. To block him out. _Hang up the phone, and move on with your life, you don’t need anything from him…_ Maybe that was true. But underneath all the hurt, and the deeply buried anger, there was a part of you that wanted something from him.

What that something was you couldn’t tell, but it was enough to make you linger.

When you didn’t hang up, Namjoon spoke. “I called you. I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for months now.”

“I know.”

“Why didn’t you answer?” His voice was strangled, raw. If you didn’t know any better you would think him to be holding back tears. But you couldn’t even remember the last time you saw Namjoon cry.

“Maybe I wasn’t ready to talk. Everything isn’t always about you.”

You can hear Namjoon take in a breath on the other side of the line and you imagine him clenching the phone in a fist, the way he always does when he makes an important phone call. The silence stretches on for a beat too long and you’re two seconds away from hanging up again when he speaks. “I don’t wanna fight. I didn’t call to argue with you.”

His words are soft, yet you still find yourself on edge. “Then what do you want Namjoon?”

“I want to see you.”

“No.” You said, shaking your head. _Not gonna happen._ You find yourself pacing against the kitchen floor. “I don’t want to see you.”

“Why not?”

His words are a match, igniting your fury and immediately all of the anger you worked so hard to keep suppressed comes bubbling up to the surface. “Why not? Are you serious?!”

“After everything you’ve done you really think I wanna see your sorry face again?” Tears filled your eyes–but you were frustrated–not sad. You were letting him get to you. Namjoon always made you feel too much. You knew you’d get worked up if you talked to him, it’s why you put it off for so long. You worked too hard to try and keep yourself together for him to tear you apart again.

You want this to end. “I have nothing to say to you. Goodbye, Namjoon–”

You take the phone from your ear, ready to press end call, and you would have, if you didn’t hear his faint voice through the speaker say: “If you feel anything for me at all, don’t hang up!”

You can’t do it. Hang up. You won’t lie to yourself. But you can’t force out a response either. Instead, you lean against the counter, letting the silence take over as you wait for Namjoon to form his next sentence. “I don’t blame you for wanting nothing to do with me. I didn’t call you to make you upset. I just want to talk about us.”

 _Us._ What a foreign concept. You try picturing it in your mind but no matter what, you still can’t form a full image with the two of you together. You’d been apart for so long, and if you really thought about it, the separation began long before you ever left home.

“There hasn’t been an us for a long time. I tried to talk to you before–look what happened. I’m tired Namjoon. I just–I can’t keep doing the same thing over, and over again.”

“It’s not going to be the same.”

You frown. “How can you say that?”

“Because…I’m not the same. I’ve had a lot of time to think things over. I know I fucked up (Y/n), I’m so sorry.” You scoff at his poor attempt at an apology. “I’m supposed to accept that? You think you can just call me up, apologize over the phone, and everything will be okay?”

“No, of course not.” You hear him exhale sharply. “I know it’s going to take more than that. But it’s not gonna get better if we don’t talk about it. We can’t move forward if we don’t talk.”

“What makes you think I want to move forward?”

“You didn’t hang up…”

You hate that he’s right. You want to pretend like it didn’t mean anything but it did. It would be so much easier to just let it go–to let him go. Beyond all reason, you’re still hanging on to this relationship.

“Can we just talk, please. Just…just come home.”

“That’s not my home. It’s not. So much shit has happened in that place…” Your voiced cracked and you couldn’t even finish your sentence.

How could you call that place home? Nothing felt right there. All it held were bad memories. Thinking of it only brought back the nights you spent alone, those times you cried yourself to sleep, and the worst fight you ever had with Namjoon. There was no peace there. You couldn’t go back to that broken place. You feel a tear roll down your cheek and you quickly wipe it away. This time you knew the tears you cry come from pain, not frustration.

_Dammit, I said I wouldn’t cry for him anymore!_

“It is your home. It’s _our_ home. You can come back anytime.”

“I don’t want to!”

“Okay, okay,” he said, his voice gentle. It was the same voice he used to use when he used to talk you down from your bad days. You could tell he was trying to calm you down, and it made you angry that it was kind of working. He suggested an alternative: “You don’t have to come home. Let’s just, meet up somewhere.”

You don’t want that either. “Namjoon…Do you have any idea what you put me through?…W-why would I want to see you. Why would I want to hear anything you have to say?”

“I..I don’t have an answer to that. But I know you deserve an explanation.”

That made you quiet. These past months all you did was ask yourself why. Why did he do it? What reason did he have for breaking your heart? And there were so many more questions. You knew you wouldn’t get any peace of mind until they’re answered. It was what you wanted. No, needed.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I’ll do it,” You conceded. “Where should we meet up?” You were not going ‘home’. You don’t feel comfortable there. There was a lull on the other line as Namjoon thought of a location.

“Can we meet at our place?”

* * *

You knew exactly what Namjoon meant when he said “our place”. When the two of you first started dating, it was really hard for you to be together. You work as a stylist at a fashion magazine and you met him and the other boys while working on a photo shoot. Namjoon caught your eye with his intuitive gaze and cool persona. He spoke to everyone on set with a natural esteem you found attractive. You were so surprised when you actually got the chance to speak to him and he turned out to be nothing like he appeared.

Gone was the calm, collected image you saw in front of the camera. Namjoon stuttered when he asked for your name, his cheeks bloomed into a rosy red. His nervousness charmed you, and at that moment, somehow you knew you would end up falling for him hard.

It didn’t take very much for you to give him your number. But finding a spot to go on a date with the famous rapper proved a bit more difficult. You never liked the idea of sneaking around, but you understood why. Namjoon wanted to keep things private to protect you, just in case the news of him dating didn’t go well with the public. For a long time, it seemed like there was never going to be a place where Namjoon wasn’t recognized.

All the facemasks and hats in the world couldn’t hide his fame. You grew tired of being swarmed in coffee shops and restaurants. You just wanted a place where you could talk, maybe hold his hand, and be at peace. Ironically, you found it when you stopped looking. It ended up not even being in a building, but instead an empty park.

It’s lush greenery held quiet beauty. Not very many people knew about it, which made it perfect.

Some of the biggest conversations you ever had as a couple was said out here, and today was no different.

You walk up to a table nearby, tugging on the hem of your white summer dress. Fidgeting like this makes you feel stupid. You shouldn’t be nervous. If anyone should be nervous about today’s meeting it would be Namjoon. But ever since you agreed to see him, a bad feeling formed in the pit of your stomach. You’re didn’t want to be nervous. You didn’t feel like you’d make it out of this alive if you were. You had to be steel. Strong, unbreakable. You couldn’t allow yourself to get hurt again.

It did not surprise you to see him there early. He was the type of person who liked to be punctual. Or at least he used to be. You had to remind yourself that he wasn’t the same person you married. You didn’t know anything about him. Hell, after the last few months you were still trying to figure out some things about yourself.

Under the shade of the table’s umbrella, Namjoon sits, bouncing his leg up and down. The only other time you’d seen his this nervous was during BTS’s first dome concert. His head faces down, staring at the ground with a look so intense he doesn’t even notice you approach him. The daze is broken once you sit down on the bench.

Namjoon jumps up, eyes wide as he looks at your face. “Y-you came?!”

It takes all your strength not to roll your eyes. _Obviously, …_ you thought.

He clears his throat, quickly sitting back down. “Thank you.”

For a while, you just look at each other. You have to calm your heart as you take in his appearance. He’s just as handsome as you remembered. But something was different. He changed his hair. His silver locks were now a honeyed blonde. The warm glow of his skin had disappeared. And his once bright eyes now hold dark circles underneath them. He looked like shit, but you were still attracted to him, what logic was that?

The air tenses with silence, the way it always seems to do when you’re around him now. This is a mistake. Neither of you knows where to begin. You hate it, but you know this conversation will never get anywhere if you don’t initiate it. “You said you wanted to explain. So explain.”

Namjoon looks tense. “I-i don’t even know where to start.”

That irritates you. You came all this way, and he didn’t even plan what he was going to say?

“What about the beginning?”

Namjoon sighed. He licked his lips, folded his hands, and then he did it. He told you everything. He told you about his anxiety, and the loneliness he felt. The desire to make it all fade away even for just a few moments. How he almost came clean the first time around. And the guilt that festered inside him for keeping the secret for so long.

“I wanted to tell you. But I knew I couldn’t tell you I cheated and keep you I–” Namjoon stopped. He looked away from you, biting down hard on his bottom lip before returning his gaze to yours.

“I was selfish. And I was wrong. There is no excuse for what I did. I’m so sorry, (Y/n).”

Your lips parted in shock. Going into this situation, you expected things to go a whole lot different. You expected him to try and defend himself, or at least blame you for the reason he cheated….but that wasn’t happening. Namjoon wasn’t trying to justify what he did, but instead taking full responsibility for his actions. Those words weren’t coming from the same man you walked away from. That man was filled with too much pride to even acknowledge his own actions–let alone apologize for them.

His actions surprised you. It was almost enough to make you drop your guard. Almost.

“I know you have questions. I’ll answer anything you ask me honestly, I swear.”

You paused. This is the moment you’ve been waiting for, and now that it was finally here you didn’t know what to say. There were so many questions you wanted to ask. But you wanted to be sure you would ask the right questions. And that you were prepared to hear the answer. Once you got the information you were dying to hear, you couldn’t give it back. You’d have to live with it. 

Finally, you spoke.“How’d you do it? How’d you keep this a secret for so long?”

“I kept a second phone hidden.”

The answer came with some relief. You knew you weren’t crazy, that there was some secret method to his deceit. The idea had come once or twice to go through his phone, but you knew Namjoon would never be that messy. “Did anyone else know?” 

He nodded once, and a wave of aggravation rippled through you. “Some of the members knew.”

“Are you serious?” You laugh, but the sound felt hollow coming from your lips. “They must think I’m so stupid….”

“You know they don’t think that. They love you.”

You grimaced. _Yeah, right._ “Not enough to let me know the truth.” 

Briefly, you wondered which members knew and what kept them to from coming to you, but you tried to push those thoughts away. You came here with questions for Namjoon. Nothing else mattered.

“Was it emotional?” You asked. “Did you love her?”

He shook his head vigorously. “No. No, it was just psychical. They didn’t mean anything to me.”

All the blood in your body went cold. “They?”

Namjoon opens his mouth. Then closed it again. “Shit.” He hoped to leave that part out of this meeting. A part of him knew it wouldn’t be fair to you but would the truth really be any better?

“…..There was more than one girl?”

He ran a hand down his face then nodded, avoiding eye contact. “Yes.”

Through gritted teeth, you ask.“How many?”

You wait for an answer but this time Namjoon keeps quiet. “You said you’d answer anything.”

“I know–”

“So that was a lie?”

“No.”

You crossed your arms over your chest. “Then why won’t you tell me?”

Namjoon tensed, jaw clenching. “I don’t wanna hurt you.”

You narrowed your gaze on him. “Well it’s too fucking late for that don’t you think? ‘Honestly’, huh? You’re so full of shit Namjoon. Being honest means telling the whole truth. All of it!”

“How many?” You press. Part of you is afraid of the answer that you still need to know.

You wait, staring him down but Namjoon looked away. He can’t say it las he looks you in the eye, instead he buries his face in his hands then mutters out the word three.

“Three?” You repeat.

You lean back from him, gripping the edge of the table. It felt like the world was spinning around you. _Wow. Three girls. Three different girls._

Sensing your distress Namjoon quickly added. “They’re just girls. They don’t matter.”

You shook your head, refusing to accept that for an answer. “Of course they matter. You made a choice to go to them, instead of me. I have to know why. What did they have, that I didn’t?”

“Everything.”

 _Ouch, okay._ You close your eyes as the pain from that statement washes all over you. The pain you feel isn’t new, but familiar. Like reopening an old wound. But Namjoon isn’t finished. Before you can even process his words he speaks again. “They were selfish, and demanding, and manipulative….the complete opposite of you.”

You feel your brows pull together. “Is that supposed to make me feel better? The fact that all the women you slept with are somehow lesser than me?”

Namjoon looks confused and hurt. “(Y/n, I don’t what you want from me. I can’t change the past, all I can say is I’m sorry.”

For so long all you wanted was for him to apologize. Really apologize. No excuses, no bullshit. But now that you finally heard it, sorry just didn’t feel like enough. Instead, his words make you feel empty inside. Sorry, isn’t enough to stay. You want to leave now.

Clearing, your throat you get ready to go. “I don’t know what to say to that and I don’t have any more question so–”

“Can I ask you a question?”

You huff out a sigh. “Fine.”

“Why did you leave? You said you’d never leave me.”

You can feel yourself flush with frustration. “And you said you’d never cheat on me. Promises mean nothing. Words, mean nothing. The only thing that matters is how you act.”

“Besides,” You said, looking away from him to the beautiful summer landscape. “You didn’t try to stop me. It’s was like you didn’t even care.”

“Of course I cared. I made a mistake–”

Standing up, you slam your hands down on the table. “It was not. A _mistake!_ _Oh my god!_ How can you still not get it? You made a choice! Cheating, is a _choice!_ You think I didn’t get lonely all those nights I spent by myself? You think you’re the only man who’s ever approached me???”

“Of course not–”

“No. Of course not! Because I’m a catch, Namjoon.” Not caring how loud you are, you raise your voice. “I am kind, I am smart, I am ambitious, I am beautiful. You had to be out of your fucking mind to cheat on me!” You said, pressing your index finger against your temple.

You’re crying now, hot tears streaming down your face.

“Why can’t you see that? Everyone else can.”

It’s the only question that goes unanswered. Namjoon stares at you, eyes glistening, but he doesn’t say a word.

You wipe at your wet face. “I have to go.” You say reaching for your bag, ready to walk away, when you glance at the wedding band still on your finger and everything stops. You don’t see the point in holding on it any longer.

You close your eyes, taking in a shaky breath, and slowly remove the ring from your finger. 

You hold it up for him to take. The single action made every bone in your body ache, but you can’t carry the weight of that ring on you any longer.

Immediately Namjoon shakes his head. “No. No, I don’t want it–”

“Well, neither do I.” You say, voice cracking in the end. 

When you don’t see him make a move to take it, you reach over and gingerly place the ring on the table in front of him. 

“It’s over, Namjoon.”


	5. Love Drought

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nine times out of ten, I'm in my feelings. But ten times out of nine, I'm only human. Tell me, what did I do wrong? Feel like that question has been posed. I'm movin' on.

You haven’t seen Namjoon but that doesn’t stop you from thinking about him.

You think about him almost every single day. What was he doing? How was he moving on without you? Was he moving on at all, or was he just sitting around somewhere…waiting for you to come back?

All these questions only fueled your anxiety and your determination to stay as far away as possible from Namjoon. If you didn’t see him, if you went away…Then those questions would go away too, right? You were going for the whole ‘out of sight out mind thing’. But it wasn’t working. Because even though you said you were done–Namjoon still had pieces of you. Literally. Your things still remained untouched at the house.

You meant it when you said you didn’t want to go back home. But you needed to come to get your belongings. It takes all of your strength to make the drive over without stopping to throw up, or cry. Stepping inside the place where your marriage died is the last thing you want to do on your day off. You put off the inevitable for months but it’s time now, you’re moving on, and you’re moving out. So why was it so hard for you to move past the front door?

You stood there, frozen at the threshold. Heart aching at the thought of what you’re about to do. Fuck (Y/n), you cursed at yourself. Stop being such a baby. You’re a grown ass woman, you can do this. Get in there. It was dead quiet in the house, as you hoped. You’re too much of a coward to call Namjoon and let him know you’re coming to take the last of your things. Couldn’t even text him. No message you typed out felt right. Anything you had to say you already told him. At this point, you both know your marriage is at its end. All you can do is pray he won’t be there at the same time you are. It’s why you chose to come in the evening. Namjoon wouldn’t be home until very late at night because of his schedule. It would give you enough time to get most of your things packed up.

Bawling your hands into fists you gripped your door key tightly, slid it in the keyhole, and unlocked the door. You take two steps inside, close the door behind you, and it feels as though you’ve stepped through time. It’s like nothing’s changed. You don’t quite know what you were expecting. You didn’t have any expectations coming over, but now looking at the space before you, you decided this isn’t it.

The house isn’t spotless, but it’s tidy, neat. In stark contrast from the last time you were here, and the fit you threw. Somehow you expected the house to look exactly in that state: broken. But nothing’s really changed. Soon your feet take on a movement of their own, walking you towards the bedroom. Being back in that room is strange. It’s almost like almost as if you never left him at all. The sunset pools through the window, drowning the bed in a light that looks like honey. The space had the essence of your home. The only difference you feel now is the emptiness. You spent many nights home without Namjoon but it never felt like this.

This time you’re really all by yourself. You don’t live in the same house anymore, but you’re not completely alone living off your best friends couch. It's been years since you’ve remembered what it feels like to be without a partner. You wondered…This emptiness…Is this what it would feel like to live to without Namjoon?

You swallow down a sob, trying not to drown in your loneliness and turn and walk into the closet. Remember why you are here. Get your things, you just have to make through these next few minutes. You reminded yourself that the hard part, the confrontation (and the leaving) was already over. All you have to do now is pack.

Strange enough your heart still aches, though not in the way it did before. This is not the ache of betrayal. You truly believed that pain would never subside but it did. Not by time but by choice. You had to choose to let go of the anger and the hurt, choose to free yourself from resentment. No. This ache was something else entirely. But you couldn’t put a name to it.

You step inside your closet, eyes studying your hung up clothes and the suitcases hidden underneath them. Not wanting to spend any more time than needed here, you got on your knees and started pulling out suitcases, folding up clothes, and putting them away. It all went much quicker than you’d expected (you got most of your clothes out during the beginning of your separation). You were picking off hangers at the end of the closet when you came across a garment bag. The garment bag.

Right away you knew you shouldn’t. Only a masochist would unzip the garment bag to their wedding dress when they’re currently living apart from their husband. And yet, you still did it. Tentatively your fingers reached out to grab hold of the bag. You pulled it into your lap and slowly undid the zipper. Then you saw your wedding dress, and you melted. As your eyes traced over the lace detail the memories of that day flickered through your mind.

It wasn’t at all what you expected. When you were younger, you always dreamed of a big wedding, everything you’d ever heard about in fairy tales. You wanted it to happen early in the morning, in a beautiful church with stained glass windows, surrounded by all your friends and family. You expected there would be flowers everywhere, and something else, something special. The romantic in you hoped for doves or maybe butterflies. And your dress? Only the most regal ball gown would do as you walked down the aisle to the man of your dreams.

Of course, fantasies rarely become reality. The issue of privacy is important when marrying a celebrity. At the time, just getting married seemed impossible, let alone doing it big. With the groups growing fame and Namjoon’s busy schedule, how could you find the time to get married? Or find a venue where fans or media couldn’t find you? You’d have to plan every second, every detail. Nothing could be left up to chance. Both of you were so in love but also, so very stressed about the situation before you until Namjoon made a second proposal.

 

_“Why don’t we just elope?” he asked.  
_

_It was late at night. You lay in the comfort of his arms, head resting on his chest and mere seconds away from_ blissful _sleep, so it took you a full minute to process that sentence. You lifted your head to look into his eyes. “What?”_

_Namjoon smiled down at you, thumb rubbing slow circles against your back. “Let’s just do it. Get married, I mean. Who says we have to wait or plan? I love you. I wanna marry you now.”  
_

_You sat up in bed, propped yourself up on your arm, and searched his face. “Are you serious?”_

_You watched amused as he narrowed his sharp eyes at you in a mock glare. “Why would I joke about this. Of course, I’m serious! Let’s do it.”_

_You looked at him hard for a minute, but when Namjoon didn’t flinch you knew he was for real. Then, of course, the panic kicked in. “Baby, what? Let’s do it? It’s not like we can just walk into a church and say ‘I do’ !”_

_“Technically, we can.”_

_You shook your head, “No. What about all the plans we’ve made? I already booked the venue and our caterer—”_

_Namjoon rolled over onto his side, facing you. “So we’ll cancel. The date’s still months away that’s more than enough time to give notice that we’ve changed our minds.”_

_You laughed_ ,, _but your shaky breath came out like a scoff. “Do you know how hard it was for me to get those reservations?! That cathedral is wedding heaven! It is stained glass perfection. The wait time is usually up to a year. A YEAR. And our cake, it’s being made by Giovanni Bianchi—world-renowned pastry chef—Giovanni Bianchi. It’s a seven-tiered baked dream. And you want me to cancel?”_

_To your disbelief, Namjoon simply shrugged. “Do we really need all that?”_

_He reached out, taking your hands in his. He looked down, stroking them with his thumbs in an effort to soothe you. “Grand cathedral or not, as long as we’re together, I’m already in heaven. Our wedding will be perfect no matter where we are because we have each other. And the cake? Well, why would I need a dream cake, when I can have my dream girl?” He said, winking at you._

_Your heart swelled at sweet words. As much as you wanted to roll your eyes you couldn’t help but smile. God, he was so cheesy. But isn’t that why you loved him?_ Still _…you felt anxious. He might have melted your heart, but you weren’t fully convinced._

_“Yeah okay, very smooth. What about our families? They’ve been looking forward to this so much. Our mothers will murder us!” You made a face, suddenly remembering your wedding party. “Oh, the boys…..Jin will be so disappointed if he doesn’t get to be your best man” (you distinctly recalled him rejoicing at the news knowing he’d be “the most handsome” best man ever)._

_Namjoon brought your fingers to his lips and kissed the tips in between explanations. “It’s not about them”. Kiss. “Jin will get over it”. Kiss. “Our families will forgive us”. Kiss. “We’re not getting married for anyone else but us, we can do it however we want.”_

_You nodded your head in agreement, though you were still unsure. You knew all these things. Of course, your marriage would be just for the two of you. You had no interest in simply performing the act for others approval. You loved Namjoon, you loved your relationship together, and you wanted to do what felt right for the both of you. Still, you couldn’t help but worry about the public’s opinion._

_“What about your fans?” you asked. “What if pictures get out?” The whole point of all this planning was for privacy. The world knew BTS was dating, many fans suspected they had secret girlfriends, but a wife? How would they react to that? You didn’t want to hurt anyone, least of all Namjoon and his image. You know how hard he and the rest of Bangtan worked to be respected in the music industry. What would happen if the world found out their leader was dating a nobody—you?_

_Namjoon looked you straight in the eyes and spoke in a calm voice. “I don’t care. I’m not ashamed of loving you. Let the whole world see that I’m marrying the kindest, loveliest, soul I’ve ever known. I don’t care what they think, or what they say. I just want you. All I want to is to be your husband, and for you be my wife. Nothing else matters.”_

_You felt another wave of love pass over your heart. His sincerity stunned you. You glanced at him with glistening eyes. “Namjoon…Are you sure?”_

_“Absolutely.”_

_He grinned at you, letting go of your hand to reach up and cup your cheek. “Are you done yet?” He teased. “Despite all your protests, I haven’t heard you say no…?”_

_You took a second to think through your conversation. Namjoon was right. You never said no, because as crazy as it was, you agreed with your fiancé wholeheartedly. You wanted this, you wanted him just as much as he wanted you, and you wanted to get married as quickly as possible. With a new resolve, you shifted in the bed straddling him, then wrapped your arms around his neck. “Okay,” you said._

_Namjoon raised both eyebrows up. “Okay!? Just like that? Anything else I need to assure you of? We have our marriage license. I have a tux. You already have your dress. I know you’re concerned but we have everything we need.”_

_You nodded. This time you were sure. “Let’s do it.”_

_Namjoon hesitated, then his face broke into a smile that was so bright it gave life to one of your own. At that moment you realized what you thought to be nerves earlier was really just excitement. You bought your hand to his shoulders, squeezing tight. “We’re getting married,” you whispered, voice full of awe._

_“We’re getting married!” Namjoon echoed._

 

Before you knew it, you were walking down the aisle. You let him plan it all. You got married at night, in a small church, without stained glass windows. There was no big guest list, but neither of you could stand the thought of going through the ceremony completely by yourselves, so you allowed for your immediate family to be there (that included Yoongi, Hoseok, Jin, Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook). Flowers did not adorn every pew, but the space was illuminated by soft and warm, candlelight. No butterflies or doves. It wasn’t like what you imagined in your head. Life rarely coincides with those kinds of plans. But Namjoon was right. Because you had each other, it was perfect.

In the end, the only part of your wedding that lived up to the fairy tale was your dress. It was everything you wanted in a gown. All white with a sweetheart neckline, crystal embroidery and of layers upon layers of tulle. The dress felt a bit heavy, but you can still remember the look on his face when he lifted your veil. In one glance, he made that all that weight disappear. You felt lighter than air. “You look like an angel.” He whispered, voice sweet and low, so only you could hear. At that moment all you could feel was love.

So how did you end up here? Clutching your wedding dress on the closet floor, desperately wiping away tears. God, what a mess you are. You pushed out a breath and started shoving the white, fluffy fabric back into the garment dress. It was a mistake taking this out. You couldn’t get it back in again. Your fingers slip as you try to grip the zipper, and you can’t tell if it’s because of your sweaty palms or your wet tears, but it won’t budge. Why won’t it zip? You pull up hard, snagging the dress in its teeth. Shit. Frustration flushes through you as you snatch the zipper back down only to hear the distinct sound of fabric tearing in the process.

You shut your eyes tight, shoulders slumping with defeat. When you opened your eyes again all you could see was the rip in the dress, threads straining and unraveling all at once. It looked as torn up as you feel inside. Part of you is falling apart at the idea of leaving Namjoon, pressured to leave all of this pain behind and let go of the relationship. Call it mind over matter. It didn’t make sense to stay with a man you had broken your heart and your trust. All logic told you to divorce him and never look back. You know this. And yet? There is a part of you aching to repair what’s been broken, pull out the sorrow from this home, and heal all the hurt.

You were so busy wrapped in your thoughts that you hadn’t heard the door unlock, or footsteps tread into the bedroom. From the corner of your eye, you saw a glimpse blond hair, wide brown shoulders. It was Namjoon. You couldn’t help the startled gasp that fell from your lips.

“(Y/n)”, he breathed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” Namjoon kept his distance. He didn’t look at you and didn’t cross the threshold of the closet door, generously leaving space between you. Instead, his eyes were glued to the floor. “I saw your car out front, but I didn’t think it’d actually be you here.” He reached up a hand, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again. I don’t mean to be rude. I’m just…confused.” Namjoon glanced up at you from underneath his eyelashes then slowly, his smokey eyes rose to meet yours. “Why are you here?”

“…” You faltered. Once Namjoon laid his eyes on you, you softened, even after all this time he had that effect on you. You were still consumed in thoughts about your marriage…feeling that again, you didn’t know what to think. You almost preferred it when you felt anger or pain at the sight of him. Instead, you felt something else. You looked down at your lap, fingering the dress. Was it longing? You started again, making eye contact. “I came back to get the rest of my things.”

A look passed across Namjoon’s face but before you could identify it, it was gone. Namjoon nodded, looking away from your face. His gaze shifted to your hands. “Is…is that—”

“—My wedding dress? Yes.” You tried to think for an excuse, some reason for you having it out but nothing came to mind. You shrugged, settling for the truth. “I just wanted to look at it I guess.” Both of you ignored your tear-stained face.

Namjoon bit his lip, the silence stretching between you until he said, “I’ll leave you to it,” and abruptly walked away. Finally, alone, you breathed out a sigh.

You felt a tinge of disappointment. And you were angry with yourself for it. You don’t know what you were hoping for, or what you wanted to get out of that conversation. What’d you expect? Did you really think after everything that he’d lower himself one last time and beg for you to come back? Again? The man you married you would have, but the man who cheated on you? No, he had too much pride. This wasn’t a romance movie where the couple fights and breaks up but somehow everything magically fixes itself and they get back together. It was really over.

The finality of it all stunned you. You sat there, numbing yourself to the pain for a minute. Then you straightened out your wedding dress and zipped up the garment bag. This time it went up without a hitch. You were just getting up of your knees when Namjoon whipped back into the room, surprising you.

“I know you could care less about anything I have to say right now,” he began, raising a cautious hand. “You probably hate me, and I understand that. I hate myself for what I’ve done to you.” He looked up in thought then pressed his hands into his eyes. When his hands fell away you braced yourself for what came next. “I’m asking you for a second chance. I’m asking you for a second chance because I love you more than anything. You are the love of my life, and I’m sorry I forgot that. I know you don’t owe me anything, least of all your forgiveness.”

He stopped, voice thickening as he gulped down tears. “But I’m asking for it.”

“I couldn’t live with myself knowing I didn’t do everything to get you back.”

Tears filled your eyes. “Are you saying that, because you love me? Or are you saying that because you want me back?”

His gaze never wavered. “Both. I want you back because I love you. Knowing you and loving you has been the biggest blessing in my life. I don’t regret it. I’d I do it all over again, just to have you in my life. Even if it meant losing you. ”

All at once it hit you. That feeling, the one you struggled to identify when you held your wedding dress in your arms. It wasn’t longing. It was love. You were still in love with Namjoon.

And so you did the unthinkable. You kissed him.


End file.
